Sean’s fists curled with the longing to touch her. But from her rigid posture, he kenned ’twas no use pressing her further, tonight. Fighting to bury the kernel of fear slithering through his chest, he turned and headed for the door and the fabled pile of pots and pans. At least he could keep his hands busy, with something else. His head and heart were a different story.
* * *
Enteringthrough the back door of Owen’s Bakery, as instructed, Sean inhaled the heady scent of bread and pastries. Working his way past several racks littered with dirty trays, he walked past a row of shiny metal sinks and counters piled with evidence of a busy day.
“There ye are.” Owen tossed him an apron. “Put that on. That’s too fine a plaid tae smear with what’s stuck tae those pans.” He gave Sean a sideways glance as he picked up a bowl, scraped the contents into two smaller containers, and set the lids. “How’s Kenna, tonight?”
“Tired, but feeling better,” Sean replied, donning the apron. “She said she was heading tae bed.”
This time, Owen’s glance was more pointed.
“I’ve a blanket on the sofa,” Sean offered. He finished tying the apron and moved closer. “I ken ye’ve no reason tae trust me, Owen, but I want ye tae kno—”
“I dinnae need tae trust ye.” Owen stacked the containers, picked them, and another two, up. “ ’Tis clear Kenna trusts ye. And I trust her. So, we’ve naught tae worry about, aye?” He jerked his head toward a huge steel door. “Open that, will ye?”
“Glad tae.” Initially shocked by the blast of frigid air, Sean followed Owen into what appeared to be a room-sized refrigerator. “Och! ’Tis a wonder.”
“A wonder, is right,” Owen nodded. “And if ye’re still around tomorrow night—and still substituting for Kenna—I’ll need ye an hour earlier than usual. We’ve an inventory tae complete, along with an examination of expiration dates.”
Sean merely nodded, thinking it best to wait and ask Kenna to explain what an inventory or an expiration date was. “Speakin’ of tomorrow, Kenna wondered if ye’d have time tae drive her—us—tae the kirk. After deliveries, o’course. But if ye’ve—”
“I have time. If yer deliveries are done on time, that is.” He waved his hands, shooing Sean out the door. “Best ye get started on those pots and pans or ye’ll still be here, doin’ ’em tomorrow.”
“Aye.” Sean adjusted his apron as if it were armor, and walked toward the sink with no idea what he was doing.
“Ye think Kenna is well enough tae go traipsin’ around that old kirk, again?” Owen picked up the bowl he’d been using and followed Sean to the sinks. “I keep suggesting we find someone—a doctor—who might help her regain her memory. But she’d determined tae keep trying on her own.”
Sitting the bowl atop a pile of others, Owen pulled a bucket-on-wheels from under the sink and reached for a mop. “I dinnae ken how I’ve come tae love that lass like my own daughter in so short a time, but I couldnae stand it, if anything happened tae her.”
He pierced Sean with his watery stare. “Anything!My wife is gone now, so ye’ll understand when I say I’m entrusting the most important person in my world, tae yer care. ’Tis a responsibility ye shouldnae take lightly.”
Sean could see the earnestness in Owen’s eyes and wished for a way to impart his own, to give the man some comfort. ’Twas clear Owen had laid his generous heart wide open for the taking and Sean feared the kindly gentleman was headed for disaster. What might happen to him if Kenna makes it back to her own time?
A tug in his own heart reminded Sean he and Owen were just alike. They both loved a lass who’d give her very soul tae leave them.
His breath caught as his mind stumbled over his last thought. Helovedher! ’Twas inconceivable that it could happen so fast. Or, that he could fall so completely. He’d vowed to help her leave, but how could he let her go?
Swallowing hard, he held out his hand to Owen. “Kenna is…special. I’ll no’ see any harm come tae her. Ye’ve my word on it. My only wish is thatherwishes come true.”
Even if it meant shattering his own, and those of the poor innocent man standing in front of him.
Releasing Owen’s hand, Sean rolled up the sleeves of his longshirt and stretched his shoulders, trying to dislodge the deep ache settling in his chest. He’d never kenned his vow tae help one person, could also harm another.
Damn Fate, for its trickery!
* * *
The full moonhad a good start on its path across the sky when Sean left the bakery, promising to return at daybreak.
He liked Owen. A lot. Kenna had been right. That outer, gruff exterior Sean first encountered was no’ who the man was, a’tall. Sean hadnae even minded the giant pile of pots and pans, with Owen working beside him, sharing tales of his wife, their life in the village, and their everlasting love.
He’d given Sean a stern look and a warning.Make sure when ye find yer love, ’tis an everlasting love.
Everlasting. Sean climbed the stairs to Kenna’s place, with that word reverberating in his head, and damning Fate for the second time that night.
Entering as quietly as possible, he looked for Kenna on the off chance she was still up. But the room was dark, save for a wee corner lamp she’d left on, and the bright moonlight shining through the window.
The door to Kenna’s bedroom stood open, and he could see her outline beneath her blanket.Hisblanket and pillow were piled neatly on the edge of the sofa. A folded piece of paper lay atop them. Opening it, Sean walked to the lamp.
